A/N: Tentatively set in the HBP time period but really it is kind of AU.

Words Unspoken

You shove him roughly against the wall, slamming your lips together in a brutal, bruising kiss. You can feel rather than hear his responding moan, the vibrations crawling across your lips. Your fingers lace into his, stretched either side of his head, pinned to the wall. You push your knee between his thighs and struggle not to growl as he grinds his hips against yours.

If anyone had of told you a month ago you’d be snogging Harry Potter senseless up against an abandoned classroom door, you probably would have hexed them until their ears bled.

You don’t have any clue how it had come to this—smouldering glances in the corridors, rough, passionate snogging in abandon classrooms. It had started off innocent enough; you’d been assigned together for a Transfiguration assignment, much to the other’s displeasure. When you had met up to work on the project, one minute you were arguing and the next his tongue was down your throat and his hand was up your shirt, his touch sending your nerves on fire.

And you liked it.

His voice is breathless as he moans, low and rough with lust and desire, breaking your train of thought. Your lips move across his jaw, trailing kisses down his neck, lavishing the soft, creamy skin of his throat.

He speaks and it sends an icy shiver down your spine. “Draco…I…”

You know what he’s going to say; you can see it in his eyes. You quickly silence him with a kiss, muting the words that should never be shared. It would destroy the delicate relationship you’d built, you knew. Three words, three syllables and it would shatter like glass.

What you had with him was like a disease; it consumed you, making you sick with lust and need. What you had was like crystal; delicate and pure need, ready to break at a moment’s notice.

Every time was the last time, but there was no way you could turn down what you needed. And you needed this, no matter how much you denied it.

No one knew the Harry Potter you did; no one knew the submissive, wanton creature he became in those dark classrooms, away from the rest of the world. No one knew how he looked this flushed and needy, desperate for your touch, his green eyes clouded with lust. No one knew how his lips looked this swollen, ruby red from the harsh treatment they were receiving.

No one knew how fucking beautiful he looked when your name falls from his lips.

His hand, released from yours as you cup his cheek, slides into your hair, lacing into the fine blonde hairs. Gently he pulls you back, breaking the kiss. His eyes are dark with desire, his face flushed with passion, his breathing heavy with need.

He had never looked so completely free; so completely given over to his own desires.

For a moment you wonder if those three words would truly break whatever this was; heart pounding, you open your mouth, a million possibilities chasing each other through your head as you go to say those three words.

But the moment is lost when the sound of heavy footfalls breaks the silence that had enveloped you; Potter curses, his hands falling away from your hair back down to his sides. You quickly snap your mouth closed, a blush blossoming on your cheeks as you studiously avoid his stare. You’re almost certain he knew what you were going to say and you can feel humiliation bubbling up inside you.

Potter is the first to break the silence as you both struggle to hear the footsteps again. “Filch?” he whispers, his breath brushing across your cheek.

You shrug, stepping back, your eyes focused on the floor.

“I should probably go.”

Again, you shrug, trying not to let his words hurt you. Maybe you were wrong—maybe he wasn’t going to say those words.

But you find yourself doubting that as he steps closer, not letting up. “Tomorrow, then?”

You nod, finally speaking. “Yeah, sure.” Your voice is shaky and you hope he doesn’t notice.

He nods stiffly, slipping his Invisibility Cloak over shoulders and stepping away. But he hesitates with the hood, his eyes troubled—then without warning his lips brush your cheek. The touch is barely there, like gossamer wings against your skin, but the shock that follows is electric. The intimacy of such a gesture spoke louder than the three forbidden words you couldn’t say, and you felt a smile tug your lips as your stomach fluttered with an emotion you weren’t entirely ready to identify.

“Night, Malfoy.” His voice was hesitant again and it tugs at your heart.

Still reeling, you meet his gaze—which told you he was waiting on bated breath for a response—and let yourself smile—not a smirk, but a smile. “Night, Potter.”

He returns the smile—radiant, much brighter than yours—before throwing the cloak over himself and disappearing into the night.

A/N: My first angsty slash :) If you could leave your thoughts/comments/criticisms in a review, I would greatly appreciate it! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

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